I begin my journal entry as I hold the telephone receiver pressed between my head and shoulder. Today my Earthlink Internet service must be terminated after a temporary free-trial period. Marjory, my new G4, came with a one-month-free connection as do all new Macintosh computers. Not one to pass up an opportunity for free service and to explore the corporate nature of a potentially useful service provider, I signed up immediately.
The entire experience has been positive. The connection speeds rivaled those of the cable connection, the setup was extremely user friendly, and the customer service people on the other end of the telephone line were not only pleasant; they were knowledgeable and given the authority they need to accomplish their jobs. The last point is crucial to good business practices and sadly lacking in today's information highway industry.
When "The Teenager" flies from the nest and the telephone falls silent, dialup access will be desirable. Earthlink will be my first choice as an Internet service provider.
My parka has needed a good washing for a few weeks now. I had planned on cleaning it as soon as the spring weather set in. Since the warm weather has not yet arrived, I have thrown caution to the wind and have washed the poor thing. It is a marvelous coat, constructed from gortex fabric. Windproof and waterproof; it keeps the elements from tormenting my human form. As much as it holds the elements out, it also holds them in; so that drying the parka after washing can take several days. It is my hope that the Cowichan sweater will keep me warm in the absence of the parka.
The rain fell in cold gray drops this morning as Attila and "The Teenager" entered the early morning world, journeying to their respective destinations. A few hours after their departure, a wet snow began to fall. Six hours later, blue skies and white clouds drift behind the bare branches of the trees. The sunshine is a welcome sight.
Spring heralds a series of domestic rituals. The eiderdown will be laundered and stored away till needed next fall. Windows will be washed and thrown open to the sun and breezes. The deck will be cleared of its blanket of thousands of maple keys and twigs. The BBQ will be cleaned and tested, ready for the first outdoor cooking adventure. All these things wait; they wait for the snow to stop falling and the temperatures to rise. For now, the heralds of spring are waiting in the wings.
During my childhood spring was a time of passion. Perception seemed heightened. Skies were bluer, clouds were fluffier, smells were richer, birds were joyous and the world seemed to share its riches without stint.
I have been pondering the absence of that former level of perception and passion during my adult years. As a child, while walking through the world on a spring afternoon, I was able to set aside the power of the social. The senses were consumed with the sight, smell, and sound of the wakening earth. The season called to me as it did to the landscape.
As the years have passed, so too have risen the pressures of social propriety. To survive in the world as we have made it, one cannot afford to forget who and where one is in the scheme of the human condition. How sad is the sacrifice of innocence to necessary ambition.
A second childhood seems in order. For this, if for no other reason, I want to grow to be comfortably old.
|RECIPES :: Cast
In the distant pines.
from A Feather on the Breath of God,
written by Hildegard of Bingen,
performed by Gothic Voices,
directed by Christopher Page.
9:00 PM EST
Temp: 6` C
Wind: N 9 mph
Barometric: 30.23 in
Sunrise 6:54 AM DST
Sunset 7:43 PM DSTThe time changed from Eastern Standard Time to Daylight Saving Time on April 1. Our clocks were reset one hour ahead.
Page by Page: A Woman's Journal